


Loving the Enemy

by carpe_cullen



Series: Red Templar!Cullen AU [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Cullenlingus, Eventual Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Red Lyrium, Red Lyrium Cullen, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5242130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpe_cullen/pseuds/carpe_cullen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prompt for the daficswap on tumblr! The prompt was Red Templar!Cullen running into the Inquisitor and falling in love with her, with eventual smut. I took it a teensy bit further.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loving the Enemy

The first time he heard of her, the infamous ‘Herald of Andraste’, he was ready to tear her down just as he would with any other enemy that stood in his way. Blood surged through his veins as battle approached, or perhaps that was still the strange effects the red lyrium was causing, and his jaw was clenched as he held his shield and sword tightly. Their first order had been to eradicate the rebel mages in the Hinterlands. He remembers the steady beat of their march as the made their way through the grassy fields. However, they didn’t expect to see the Inquisition there at the crossroads, fighting mages and templars alike.

He readied his weapon and as he surveyed the area, that’s when his eyes landed on her. He should’ve felt anger,  _hatred_ for this woman. But the way she fought was admirable, to say the least. Her form was proper enough as she shot her arrows, the bend in her knees allowing her the fluidity to escape as an enemy lunged towards her, and her aim was near perfect.

The battle moved quickly, his sword cutting down rebels quickly as he made his way closer to the Inquisition. It wasn’t until he felt an arrow pierce his shield that his attention was turned back towards the Herald. Now that he was closer, he could see the finer details of her. Her brown hair wound tightly into a bun, her golden eyes concentrated on her targets, and her plump lips pulled into a snarl. She was beautiful. Arrow after arrow knocked him out of the strange trance she put him in and he looked around the field and saw his comrades being taken one by one until there was only a small handful left.

“Retreat!” he heard the Commander yell from behind. Cullen locked eyes with the Herald, his peripheral seeing her finger her next arrow. He knew as soon as he turned his back that she would take her shot. Seeing her standing before him now, he didn’t want to hurt her but he had no choice. He lunged forward, his shield knocking her from her feet and her bow flying behind her. When she was heaving for breath, her eyes widened with fear, that’s when he took a moment to pause, his hand itching to help her from the ground while his lips would spill apologies. But instead, he looked her over for a moment and then turned to rejoin the others in the retreat.

Later that night, they each huddled around the campfire while tending to their wounds and though he remained physically unscathed, he couldn’t help but feel as though something deep within him has changed. The way his heart raced when he saw her was a familiar, yet strange, sensation, something he’s not felt in a decade…not since Kinloch. Cullen grabbed the tankard of ale that sat next to him and as he brought it up for a taste, he saw the slightest hint of his reflection. He was a different man now, no longer a respectable Templar that he set out to be when he was younger. Corrupted by the red lyrium forced down his throat. The changes were unmistakable. So far, he only had the reddened eyes, his golden hue no longer existing. But he saw what he would become, it was all around him. Soon his veins would shine red through his pale skin, his lips would become chapped, and red crystals would burst out of his body. And then, he would truly be a  _monster_. He threw his ale to the ground in disgust and pushed himself from the ground. And how could a woman as beautiful as the Herald ever begin to love such a  _beast_?

* * *

It was a long while until he saw her next. They had been sent to the Emerald Graves to smuggle more red lyrium and naturally, the Inquisition had followed their trail. However, it wasn’t on the battlefield, nor even in broad daylight, when he saw her. He was on patrol, scouting out enemies that could be nearby, and that’s when he spotted a campfire in an old ruin, the sound of laughter sifting through the forest. A sound he hasn’t heard in ages, at least laughter that didn’t have a cruel bite to it.

“ _A dragon_! Can you believe that we actually killed a bloody  _fucking_  dragon?” he heard a woman shout, her voice slurred. He made his way forward, slowly and cautiously as to not make any noise and he knelt to the ground as soon as the small makeshift camp came into view, hiding behind a thicket of trees and bushes.

“Ah, that  _roar_  as it cried for help, I can still  _smell_ the  _burning_  of the fire!” the qunari groaned, taking a swig from his waterskin though he had a feeling it wasn’t water inside.

“Pu’ it back in your pants, you!” the female elf snorted, a wide grin plastered on her face. He nearly laughed with them, a part of him missing the camaraderie he had among his fellow templars, before the change.

His weapons were carefully placed on the ground next to him as he settled in his spot. Over the course of a few hours, he learned much of the Inquisitor. Her name, _Emilie Trevelyan_  of Ostwick, how she loved to hold herself up in the library back at Skyhold away from prying eyes and with her friend Dorian, and that she began sword training with the Commander not too long ago. The rest of the group laughed at that, stating the only reason he’s made time for her was because he fancies her. For a moment, he found himself clenching his jaw and heat rising to his cheeks, the tingling sense of jealousy under his skin that he hasn’t felt in such a long time. Picturing another man holding her,  _loving_  her made him wish that it was he who could do such things, but he knew it was impossible.

Another hour passed before he finally decided to sneak back to his own group. Most of them already asleep except for the one keeping watch, who merely grunted to acknowledge his presence. When he stripped down to his underclothes and laid against the ground, he fell asleep quickly as his thoughts drifted to Emilie.

* * *

_His eyes opened, brows furrowing when he noticed that he was no longer in his tent, but someone’s quarters, in their bed covered with furs. The fabric was soft beneath his touch as his hands slid along it and that’s when his eyes widened. The glowing veins that had appeared in the past few months were gone. He quickly threw back the blankets covering him and hurried to the nearest mirror and he choked back a sob. His eyes were his old golden hue, his skin with a healthy glow, and his hair was the same unruly curls just as before. He was himself again. His hands glided along himself, rediscovering what he had been before the lyrium and smiled, tears beginning to sting his eyes._

_“You’re awake,” a woman’s voice called out from behind him. When he turned, he saw Emilie standing by the fireplace dressed only in a white lace robe, the hem ending at mid-thigh. He watched closely as she came closer, her hips swaying, putting him in a trance, with every step. Breathing became harder as soon as she was barely a few inches from him, her body heat melding with his, and when her hands slid up his abdomen he could swear she left a trail of fire behind._

_He hesitated to wrap his arms around her, afraid that once he did she would disappear - that this dream would end. She pulled at his hand, guiding him to the small of her back, and when his skin touched the lace, she was still there smiling up at his worried face. He sighed, relieved that this wasn’t the end of their time and his other arm joined eagerly to wrap around her tightly._

_“You’re real,” he whispered as he buried his face into the crook of her neck, the smell of lavender surrounding him. Her fingers tangled in his hair, her nails scraping lightly against his scalp. His body relaxed into hers as her lips pressed kisses along his shoulder, then his neck and up to his ear._

_“Make love to me, Cullen,” she murmured. His heart raced at her words and he paused only for a short moment before lifting her from the floor. He groaned as her legs wrapped around his waist and as soon as he pulled his head from her neck, her lips met his that stoked the fire deep in his belly. They were as soft as velvet, slowly rubbing and sucking along his lips, and she released a breathy sigh as his hands slid to cup her bottom  and began to move back to the bed._

_He laid her against the furs gently, his body folding over hers to keep their lips from parting. His tongue slipped between her lips, flicking against hers teasingly before fully sliding along it. It was a dance, one that he hadn’t practiced in quite some time but the steps weren’t forgotten, and with the next roll of their tongues, his hips followed, his hardness rubbing against her core. Her moan caused him to repeat the motion, again and again and again until she was writhing beneath him. His lips moved from hers, immediately trailing along the column of her neck, pausing at the crook for a soft bite before moving further._

_The lace scratched against his cheek as he journeyed down her chest, for a moment he thought of discarding her robe, aching to see her completely bare to him, but when he saw her peaked nipples rise against the fabric he completely changed his mind. His mouth moved to her breast while one hand slid up her curves to cup the other and pressed a light kiss to the laced peak. He chuckled when she gasped, which quickly turned into a moan as he took her in his mouth. Her fingers twisted in his hair as he sucked and nibbled and when the fabric had become wet he moved his attention to the other. He pulled the fabric back just enough to reveal what he sought. A moan escaped him has his tongue met her hot skin, swirling around the tip before wrapping his lips around it._

_“Cullen, please,” she whimpered._

_“Tell me what you want,” he replied, his golden eyes looking up to hers._

_“More, I need more of you.”_

_He pushed himself onto his knees, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it to the floor, and when his gaze returned to her he growled, his cock throbbing harder as he saw the lace pushed to her hips and exposing her glistening sex. Her teeth dug at her lip as his hands descended on her legs until he reached her inner thighs. His thumbs grazed her lower lips, nudging them apart just enough for a glimpse of her folds. Another groan slipped out of him as one of his hands hurried with the silk tie keeping the robe together while his thumb followed a slow line up and down her slit._

_Once her robe was untied and pushed away from her body, he took a moment to admire her beauty. Radiant skin with a spatter of freckles and moles along her torso, her smooth skin layered over a bed of muscles, and the dark curls nestled at her juncture, neatly trimmed and shining with slick. A low, guttural noise came from his throat as he lowered his head to her core, a smile coming to his face as her sweet scent hit him. With no hesitation, his lips pressed against her clit before his tongue swept along her sex. His hands slid back to her breasts, his fingers rolling her nipples as he created a pattern of circles along her entrance, his nose rubbing the tight bundle of nerves. Her back arched, hips bucked and her moans were a constant noise that he wish he could listen to forever._

_His hips rutted along the mattress, the pressure of each thrust making his head spin and he knew that he couldn’t hold out for much longer before taking her. Her legs tightened around him, her hips bucking as his ministrations grew faster and faster. He looked up to her, his lips curling into a smile as he saw her reddened cheeks, her mouth forming a circle and eyes squeezed shut. With one last flick of his tongue, she cried his name, her hands coming to clutch his hair and keeping him in place as she rode her ecstasy. He moaned as the taste of her orgasm spilled into his mouth and he pressed into her harder, not wanting to miss anything. When her grip slacked, he pulled back, his chest heaving for air, and he climbed up her body, forearms resting at her sides._

_For a moment, her eyes remained closed but her lips formed a wide smile as she breathed deeply. He peppered light kisses to her face, starting with her jaw, then her cheeks, her eyes, ears, forehead and coming to land at her nose and she sighed, her eyes finally opening. His heart raced when her hand cupped his cheek, her neck craning to kiss him deeply._

_“Maker’s breath, I love you,” she murmured. He paused, his heart nearly stopping at what he just heard. Three words that held so much and yet has been said so little to him in his lifetime. He remembers that he has loved before, but the feeling of truly loving another had been lost on him through the years of war and tragedy. Until now. When he finally took another breath, one hand moved to the waistband of his trousers, tugging lightly._

_“Say it again?” he asked, his voice quiet and hoping he heard right. He watched her eyes look him over, the iris gliding over his worried features._

_“I love you, Cullen,” she told him again before joining their lips once more. He smiled into their kiss, hurrying to remove the rest of his clothing and soon enough his hardened cock was in his hand and lining himself with her core. He slid the head along her slit, her slick coating him, and he parted his lips from hers to rest his forehead to hers._

_“Again,” he whispered._

_“I-” she was cut off by a gasp leaving her as he sheathed himself inside her, her wetness allowing him to slide in easily, “love you,” she finished with a moan._

_“I love you too,” he told her, his eyes brimming with tears of happiness instead of their normal pain and anguish._

_He made every thrust count, twisting with each movement so that he could discover a new depth inside of her. Their limbs intertwined, lips joining once again and only leaving for air, and their moans harmonizing, echoing through the room. First, he was slow, relishing in the feeling of her tight heat surrounding him and learning which spots made her cry out the loudest. But as the fire in his belly grew higher and higher, the faster he became. Soon the sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with their sounds of pleasure and electricity coiled around his legs, sparks shooting to his groin._

_His hand moved to where they joined and when his fingers began to circle her clit, her lips broke away from his as his name spilled from them, begging for release. Feeling her contract around him blurred his vision, his own release quickly approaching. The light of the moon filtering in through the window mixed with the light from the fireplace, sounds of wildlife and metal clanging slowly weaving into his mind._

_Brows furrowed, jaw clenched and he buried his face into the crook of her neck once more, trying to catch the lavender but instead he could only smell dewed grass and ash. Consciousness was slowly working at him and his hold on her tightened and he could feel her beginning to slip away from him._

_“Please, no,” he whimpered. “Come back.”_

_“I love you, Cullen,” he heard her whisper one last time before she completely disappeared._

* * *

When his eyes opened, he was no longer in the warm room, but in a cold tent in a tattered bedroll, his armor laying beside him instead of the woman he’s desperately, one-sidedly in love with. His red veins glowed in the dark, reminding him of what he really was. A  _monster._

Sitting up, he ran a hand through his hair only to see strands falling out with the slightest touch. Tears welled in his eyes. And unlike the ones in his dreams, these were of pain,  _loneliness_.

* * *

He saw her every night in his dreams, some much like the first but most of his dreams just had him holding her, reading to her, laughing with her, just…enjoying her. He knew it was folly, his mind only lusting after something that can never exist, but she wouldn’t leave his thoughts. Their next battle was at the Arbor Wilds, according to Samson there is an essential weapon that Corypheus needs there and he knew that the Inquisition, and Emilie, would meet them there ready to fight.

By the time they had reached the heart of the forest, he was determined to work against the order, against the chains that have bound him, take the chance to be good again. So he slipped through the trees, away from his group and away from prying eyes. He disarmed traps, killed templars that roamed the forest and avoided the Inquisition scouts.

He walked along a ledge, bodies of dead templar archers lining his tracks and as he dropped down from the edge, that’s when he saw her again. She ran through the forest, her body twisting to shoot and arrow behind her every few steps. His eyes darted to where she shot and saw two templar warriors chasing after her. He moved quickly, charging towards the assailants with his sword raised high. His lips snarled as he saw his former comrades spot him, but he knew that they didn’t know they had been betrayed. He rushed past Emilie, crashing his shield with the other matching ones.

His sword swung swiftly, each motion controlled and landing their intended blow. He stabbed one in the back and as he pulled the blade from his body, he heard the cry of agony and the spurt of blood bursting from his mouth. He kicked the other off of his feet and quickly pushed his sword into his throat. Cullen scoffed at how easy it was to overtake them, cleaning his blade on the skirt of his armor, but when he heard the pull of a bow string behind him, the hairs on the back of his neck stood. He turned slowly and saw her standing at least twenty feet away from him with an arrow drawn tightly against her cheek, her eyes glaring at him. He swallowed roughly as he has finally come face to face with the woman who has clouded his every thought.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he told her calmly. She pulled the arrow tighter.

“Why should I believe you?” she asked harshly. A reasonable question, of course. He knew that he couldn’t just simply say such things and have her believe him. So, his grip loosened on his sword and he tossed it towards her, followed by his shield and finally his helm. He watched as she looked over his discarded gear, but she didn’t slacken her hold on the bow.

“I want to help you,” he said. He knew he needed to say more just by the hard look on her face. But he couldn’t tell her that he loves her, especially when she doesn’t even know his name. “I never wanted this life, to be corrupted and turned into a monster. When Therinfal was taken over, I watched my men fall one by one, either by death or to the red lyrium. I was hunted specifically by orders of Samson and they forced it down my throat.” His voice cracked and he hung his head as memories of that day came flooding back into view. There was silence between them, so heavy that it weighed on his shoulders.

“You were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she murmured, her voice softened. He dared a glance and saw her lowering her weapon, but caution still displayed on her features. There was another moment of silence before she inched closer.

“Join the Inquisition.”

His full attention snapped back to her, his heart beating fast at what he just heard. “What?”

“Join us. Fight against Corypheus, against Samson. Come with us back to Skyhold and we’ll try to find a way to cure you,” she told him, coming closer. He felt like he needed to pinch himself, thinking this was another dream, but as she came closer and he could  _truly_  see her, he knew that this was real.

“Why do you trust me all of a sudden?” he asked.

“I don’t,” she stated, sheathing her arrow. “But I know how it feels to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. To have your life change for the worse without you wanting it to.” She began to walk back out of the forest, expecting him to follow, so he quickly picked his armor and weapons from the ground and followed her lead.

They rejoined her companions, who were naturally suspicious, none of them allowing him to walk closely to her. But they fought through the waves of enemies, defeating templars and behemoths and elves and when they ran down the final hill, the temple was in sight, but so were a mass of enemies. They fought their way through the thicket, this wave harder than all combined. With each templar struck down, at least two more joined the battle. It was endless. Shortly more behemoths barged their way through, knocking down whoever was in their way. His eyes watched over the field haphazardly, losing track of where his allies and Emilie were. He dodged swing after swing of the once-man he was fighting before Cullen finally struck the killing blow.

He looked around the battlefield, able to spot the mage and the two warriors she had brought with her, and several Inquisition soldiers, but he couldn’t find her. His heart beat faster as panic rose. The ground shook beneath his feet and when he turned he saw another behemoth, its lyrium claw the largest he’s seen yet. And that’s when he saw her next. Her back was turned to the monster, her focus on the enemies grouped in the center of the riverbed. His eyes widened as he realized the beast had locked her as his target. He threw all other thoughts from his mind as his legs carried him through the water as fast as he could.

“ _Emilie!_ ” he shouted. Her head snapped towards him and when she saw the behemoth behind her, she screamed, her weapon dropping to the ground. The claw rose high into the air, preparing its heavy swing, and as it came crashing down his steps grew wider and closing the distance. He knocked Emilie to her feet as he knelt on one knee, his shield lifting to protect him against the deathblow just in time.

“Go! You need to go  _now_!” he shouted, preparing himself for the next hit.

“But you-”

“I’ll be fine! GO!” he yelled. He heard her splashing in the water and saw her run towards the Commander of the Inquisition. The behemoth landed hit after hit against his shield, weakening his stance, but he kept his eyes on her while her companions gathered. Their eyes met again one last time before she turned towards the temple.

As soon as she left, his body grew weaker and weaker with every persistent blow of his enemy. Another hit landed against his shield, but what he wasn’t expecting was for it to knock his protection away, leaving him defenseless against the next blow. He watched the arm come down slowly, as though he was waiting for his death. And then his world went black.

* * *

His eyes squinted open, the sun that shine in his face was brighter than the sunlight he was used to. There was a sharp, throbbing pain in his head and his mouth was incredibly dry. As his eyes opened wider, he noticed he was no longer in the Arbor Wilds, but a stone tower as he moved his head, he could feel the fluff of an actual pillow. His hands lifted to rub at his face but when they came into view, he paused, his heart slowing. The red was gone. His eyes searched the rest of his arms and there was nothing…except  _healthy skin_.

_This has to be another dream_ , he thought in disbelief. That is until he heard her voice.

“ _You’re awake_ ,” she said, sounding relieved. Her hair was out of the bun he last saw her in, her armor exchanged for a simple tunic and trousers. She moved to sit next to the cot he laid on and looked over him, her brows knitting together and creases appearing in her forehead. “How’s your head?”

“ _Killing_ ,” he groaned. “Am I dead? Am I dreaming?”

“No,” she replied with a small laugh. “The behemoth knocked you unconscious nearly three months ago.” Tears began to form as he took in all the information while he looked over his skin again.  _He was himself again….for real this time_.

“And how..?”

“Our arcanist, Dagna, worked with our healers to help you. I don’t know the details, but I’m sure Dagna would be more than willing to fill you in once you’re feeling up to it,” she told him. He looked over to her, her worried expression melting away and her lips formed a smile, and he held back a sob, his head shaking slightly and he winced from the pain.

“You…I…I don’t know how I can  _ever repay you_  for this,” he murmured, his voice cracking. He felt a tear roll down his cheek as he looked away from her, a part of him not wanting her to see him cry. But he couldn’t help himself. For the  _first time_  in years, his tears were those of  _joy_. But his gaze shortly moved back to her when he felt the warm, soft touch of her hand sliding into his. His breath hitched as he really felt her, felt the first human touch since his corruption, and his hand squeezed hers lightly.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” she whispered, with a smile that he quickly fell in love with.

**Author's Note:**

> Any Kudos and Comments are greatly appreciated! <3


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